


Step down and you shall find

by Grain_Crain



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Possible Romance?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14840843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain
Summary: Happy birthday, nemo :)





	Step down and you shall find

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemo_Nohbdy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemo_Nohbdy/gifts).



One would take a look at this object and bleakly describe it as a bracelet adorned with a cross, a bead and ten other to form a ring. It’s not an accessory of a sort - this is a rosary beads that any devout Catholics could use when they feel the need to pray to the Virgin Mary. Olivier received his second one from the Chaplain Bertrand and has been praying with it ever since. The little marks of fingernails on the oily smooth surface of the wooden cross have the story of frustration and regret, each dent running deeper whenever he thought of his mistakes that led to his demise. The first one he had from his family was long lost and gone because of a stupid bet that he made during his promiscuous teen years. Oh, how he beat himself up for such foolishness. All those are histories to be remembered, old scars that ache his conscience from time to time. He doesn’t need self-pity. As long as he prays to the Virgin Mary, she will be his listener who reminds him of his sins.

Rosary starts with a prayer that the general media often portrays in horror movies. Yes, the ‘our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.’ Since Olivier knows his prayers off by heart, he doesn’t need to think about what to say next. Praying has become sort of a meditation for Olivier at this point. Thinking about nothing has benefit of its own, but the downside is that some thoughts pop up without a warning. It must be the Holy Lady chiding him to reflect upon his wrongdoings, and if so, it would be a dishonour to turn away from such opportunity. Maybe she will grant him a speck of salvation if he endures.

_[Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.]_

There were times when religion was nothing more than a mob psychology. Bible was a fiction and the _missa_ seemed like a group gathering for the delirious. Olivier had rejected God. He refused to have omnipotent imaginary friend and his supposed scapegoat of a woman who miraculously conceived his child that became the saviour of the world. The story defied basic human biology and Olivier thought he knew better.

_[Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.]_

His then girlfriend, Claire, conceived a human life that was far from a blessing. Just like Mary had her son magically appear out of nowhere, Olivier wanted to erase his first failure back into the nothingness. Bless her courage to keep their illegitimate offspring. The strength and determination to raise their next future generation, their little boy whom he should have cherished. Olivier learned to admire the power of a mother, much later after his pathetic episodes of alcoholism. The military life was an escape route that helped him to return to the righteous path.

_[Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.]_

It would be absurd to even think about a forgiveness from her. No matter the amount of financial support that he provides them, Olivier was aware that there is no place for him in the new family that Claire had earned. Abandoned by his own family and the love that he refused, Olivier started to wonder about a voice from the above. The omnipotent being that majority of people seek out to. There must be a reason behind this well-constructed community to form all of these grand architectures and scriptures. Soon, Olivier realised that for some people, religion is a sanctuary of those who are uncertain. In his case, he had no one who would forgive him, but the church said that they would. Jesus has atoned for our sins and surely, his mother has formed her own army to save those who have fallen down to the darkness. She would be here for him until he finishes this mess of a life.

* * *

 

_[The Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,]_

Those were the three figures that Olivier chanted every time he skimmed on the brink of death in West Africa. Being the leader of 2nd Dragoon was an opportunity of high risk and reward, which was an opportunity that he desperately wanted to succeed.

_[O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fire of hell,]_

Recklessness wasn’t his part of the mistake. He ensured the area to be sterile and suggested to incinerate before the installing the campsite, but a few objected the idea. Disregarding the opposition, Olivier abused his position as the leader and proceeded to push his idea. While this course of action killed off the virus, it also created smoke and attracted the renegades for an ambush. Casualties were inevitable during the chaos and this was the moment where he forcefully ordered a retreat. He had to drag away a colleague medic who insisted to stay and search for their fallen comrades.

_[lead all souls to heaven, especially those who are in most need of Thy mercy.]_

Maybe Gustave Kateb was right. They could have made the effort to rescue some of the men who were wasted to death because of Olivier’s misjudgement. No wonder why their relationship is still strained to this day, right at this moment when they are sharing a couch in their dorm. The silence is nothing but a veil to cover the unsolved tension between the two. There are other watchful eyes observing them, as if a boiled kettle will overflow and burn everybody within the vicinity.

“Amen.” Just as Olivier whispers the very last word of his prayer, Gustave claps his book shut and clicks his finger joints.

“If you have finished, may I make a suggestion?” Such polite question from harsh tone. Oliver sighs at the open hostility and nods.

“This is a public space for everybody to share. I recommend you to visit the cathedral in the town nearby our base. I think it’s the perfect place for you to pray without disturbing anybody.” Gustave attempts to show a friendly smile but his hands are already flexing in and out, occasionally popping and creaking.

“I believe this is a space for the GIGN members,” Olivier replies, “and my voice cannot be _that_ loud.” Well, his nickname ‘Lion’ says otherwise but he hardly makes any noise while using his rosary beads.

"No matter how many times you pray to her, the people you led to death won't forgive you." No one expected Gustave to be so direct. Their usual bicker consisted of argument with references of their tragic mission back in West Africa but Gustave appears to have no time for subtlety.

“Well, I still need to pray for them, don't I?" Olivier responds, thinking this is the usual pattern of Gustave’s passive aggressiveness. He hears a rapid whiz of a fabric and assumes that Gustave wanted to leave the room out of spite, but realises that isn’t the case as something hits his face hard and fast.

“Ami, non!” Gilles should have jumped in earlier, before Gustave even began to pound on Olivier as if the man is a punching bag to vent out all of the stress and anguish. Punches and kicks from a field medic may not sound as intimidating, but if anybody had seen Gustave with heavy equipment and gadgets, they would recognise his physical capability. Oh, they would know, those people who also carried the similar tools before they burned to soot.

“Do you have _any_ idea what day it is?” Gustave growls and hovers his fist. Olivier uses this chance to kick his attacker off and spits out some blood.

“It’s the day they died.” Oliver bites into his words.

“Oh, so you knew. Of course, you claim to know the best. Then why,” Gustave would have lunged toward Olivier if Julien didn’t hold onto his arms, “why haven’t you attended the mass for the dead? See, I thought you would be there, since you are very knowledgeable of Catholic church and all.” Those words sting sharper than the welling up bruise on his face.

“I have forgotten, but you have to know that I was praying for them right here, right next to you. What more do you want me to do?” Olivier has no intention of denying his forgetfulness. However, his temper holds him against the logic and sympathy, and at times he simply wishes Gustave to forgive and forget about the nightmare that has been taunting them for some two or three years.

“I want you to call their family and _beg_ for their forgiveness. You’ve killed their sons and daughters because of your arrogance.” There it is. The elephant in the room.

“If it was that easy, I would have done it while ago.” Olivier reduces himself into a whisper, dreading the sensation of helplessness creeping back again.

“What’s so hard? Why can’t you do it?” The endless questions are overwhelming.

“Stop hiding under Mother Mary’s skirt and face the problems. The victims, your son, your own family-” Gustave could’ve listed more if Olivier hadn’t disturbed him with the blow in the face. Gilles shoves his friend away from the doctor and stands in between them while Emmanuelle holds Olivier by his shoulder.

“YOU KNOW NOTHING!” Here comes his trademark volume that shakes all of the light furniture in the room. No one flinches from the intimidating roar, they rather stare at Olivier with unconcealable pity.

“I do. That’s why I tried to understand you. How else could I have known that there are specific types of mass other than the normal ones?” Gustave slurs and touches his nose to stop the gush of blood.

“Stop.” Out of all the words he could have said, Olivier manages to say a single demand for a break. He cannot drag this feud here when his teammates are staring down on him. Of course, this could be his own over-speculation and delirium due to his stubborn pride, but the sheer notion of empathy from anyone feels undeserving.

“Excuse me. Pardon my actions, Kateb.” Olivier leaves behind the distant shout and call of his name as he sprints out of the room. The thoughts start to tangle and no matter how fast he runs, they always seem to catch up. He doubts Gustave’s considerate behaviour even though it probably meant well. Perhaps Gustave isn’t truthful since the man seems to be bound in the idea of being altruistic. Olivier must disregard Gustave as a genuinely wholesome human being because if someone could be kindhearted and passionate without the help of God, what does that make of Olivier himself? Could Olivier be righteous and good without the help of the prayers?

 _‘I tried to understand you.’_ When Gustave had said that, his eyes were on the verge of reddening, somehow convincing Olivier that there is a person who is making an effort to reach out to him. A person, a real person who he can talk to rather than an imaginary figure in his head during his prayers. Gilles has been there for Olivier, but he prefers to not burden the older colleague anymore, especially after the rough exchange between him and Mike Baker. Maybe he could try and hold onto the hand that Gustave is lending and try to seek forgiveness from the medic. Just maybe one day when he is strong enough to face the confrontations without retracting back to his old meditation.


End file.
